


Film Night

by lyricalsoul



Series: Mystrade Tumblr Ficlets [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Humor, M/M, crackish, mystrade, tumblr ficlets, wonder woman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-05
Updated: 2012-11-05
Packaged: 2017-11-18 00:56:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyricalsoul/pseuds/lyricalsoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft and Greg have a night in. Super heroes are discussed. Overall, just an evening of domestic Mystrade Bliss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Film Night

“Wonder Woman…” Lestrade sighs wistfully. “Man, Mycroft… I was so in love with her! Smart, sexy, and she had the coolest gadgets. Especially her invisible jet.”

“Which didn’t make her invisible, Gregory,” Mycroft sniffs dismissively. “I don’t understand how the criminals didn’t catch her. All they had to do was look up. A woman in costume, sitting in the sky as though flying would be an easy target to track.”

“You just have to ruin everything, don’t you?”

“I didn’t invent physics, Gregory. A cloaking device would hide her as well as the jet, but the jet was invisible. How would that hide her? And you started it.”

“How did I start anything? I mentioned that Captain America was sexy, and you went off on a tangent about him being in Britain without a passport and international superhero laws and how he should change his name if he’s going to other countries…” He shakes his head. “What did you and Sherlock do as kids?”

“We read books. He had a fort in the underbrush. I painted, and may or may not have studied the fine art of fencing. There was chess, baccarat, backgammon… however, we didn’t watch nor read the silliness you’ve described. Father insisted that I choose someone to emulate. I chose-“

“Dr. No? No… Blofeld, right? I could see you in an eye patch…”

“Really, Detective Inspector,” he sighs in that way that says at least one hundred things about Lestrade’s level of intelligence. “Bond villains?”

“Bond, then?”

“Churchill. But before that, I fancied that I’d take over for Satan one day.”

“How lovely to have met one of your goals. I’ll bet the smell of sulfur must be hell on those expensive clothes.”

“Not at all,” he says smoothly, dipping his hand in for more popcorn. “Are we going to finish watching this farce you’re calling a film or can we go back to tonight’s Shark Week offering?”

“Want to see how your kind survive, eh?”

“Most amusing, Gregory. I find sharks a rather pleasing species. You always know what to expect when you encounter one.”

“Except those rogue ones,” Lestrade counters. “They lure you in with their smiles, then wham! You’ve a peg leg.”

“How did I ever think I actually fancied you?”

“My extensive knowledge of superheroes lured you in. You know you can’t resist when I go on about Batman… or Superman…”

“Mmm… your obsession with men in tights aside,” Mycroft nods, “I do enjoy debunking your science of superheroes theories…”

“Don’t you just.” Lestrade hands over the remote, snatches away the bowl of popcorn, and slides to the other end of the sofa. “Shark Week, then.” He watches as the action movie changes to a guy in a cage on the ocean floor throwing meat through the bars. “I gave up Downey Junior for this? I wish I knew how to quit you,” he sighs.

“You could try,” Mycroft says, and grabs the foot nearest him. “I’d come after you in my cloaked aircraft. Or stalk you all over the world as a shark. Even on land. Like sharks do. Because they remember.” That last is practically dripping with sarcasm.

“We will come to blows if you say one disparaging word about Jaws The Revenge…”

“Never. I do not relish sleeping on the sofa.” He tickles Lestrade’s foot lightly. “So touchy about your silly, unrealistic films.”

“Yes.” Lestrade looks at him, all prim and proper, but here, and obviously not wanting be anywhere else. With a tender smile, he shifts on the sofa, places his head in Mycroft’s lap, and settles in comfortably. “Thanks for having film night with me. Popcorn?”

Mycroft eats the kernel of popcorn that is offered, and nips at Lestrade’s fingers. “My pleasure, Gregory.”

***


End file.
